


Need

by 13starbuck42



Category: The X-Files
Genre: PWP, motel room masturbation, perhaps a little voyeuristic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:55:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23674987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13starbuck42/pseuds/13starbuck42
Summary: Motel room masturbation.  PWP.  Enjoy!
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

She woke up in a light sheen of sweat, silk pajama top rucked up and twisted, fingers instinctively toying with the waistband of the matching pajama pants. For just a moment, just a brief, quiet moment, she gathered herself. But she didn’t hesitate. No, she knew exactly what she wanted. What she needed.

Gracefully, she drew her hand down beneath the silky folds of the pajamas and sighed with content as her fingers slid into all the right places, glossy and smooth and wet.

She imagined his head between her thighs. Needed his head between her thighs.

It wasn’t long before her muscles drew taut, her heart pounded, her eyes squeezed shut. On the edge of desperation, she allowed herself a forbidden luxury. Barely, in a feverish whisper, and only for herself to hear:

“Mulder.”

Again.

“Oh, Mulder.”

Again. Louder.

“Oh God, Mulder…”

And again. Louder. Needed to call out his name.

“Oh my God, Mulder,” and she let go, let herself go, let herself come. Whispered his name next to God’s over and over like it was sacred, because it was, it was sacred to her.

Her heartbeat slowed and her eyes opened once again to the dim confines of the motel room. She withdrew her hand, subconsciously taking note of the dampness and scent. She rolled onto her side and drew a pillow to her chest, unsure how to feel.

She needed him, she always needed him. How could she simultaneously feel so satiated and so… incomplete, unfulfilled?

The door clicked gently on the other side of the room. She knew he’d heard; everyone in this shitty motel had probably heard.

“Scully?” Barely, in a whisper, like he wasn’t sure he wanted her to hear.

She pretended to be asleep.

“Scully,” he said, and paused. “Scully, I… I heard you. God, I heard you, and…”

She heard him draw his hand through his hair, and then… nothing. Quiet. She wished he’d go. Didn’t she?

But then she felt him lift the sheets and blankets. Felt him curl his body around hers. Felt his breath on her neck, hot and fast. Felt him.

Needed him, all over again.

“Scully, I need you, too.”


	2. Chapter 2

He could hear her tossing and turning; could hear the sheets rustling and the little noises she made. It had happened before, more than once - several times, actually - and he often went to her, to comfort her. To smooth her hair from her face and touch her skin, to speak softly and calmly until she woke from the nightmare, and then he held her until she fell back into sleep. But they never talked about it.

He got up from his bed to soothe her, as he had done countless times before. But just as his fingers closed around the knob of the door separating their rooms in this shitty motel, she stilled.

Quiet.

He pulled back his hand, second-guessed himself. Retreated. Should he still go to her? And then…

Barely, in a feverish whisper:

“Mulder.”

Again.

“Oh, Mulder.”

Again. Louder.

“Oh God, Mulder…”

And again. Louder.

“Oh my God, Mulder,” and she let go, let herself go, let herself come.

“Jesus,” he murmured, as he listened to her repeated his name, over and over, so desperate and longing. Or was it him, the desperate one, imagining she needed him in the same way he needed her?

His hand tightened once again around the doorknob, and his body took him into her room without consulting his brain. Later, he realized it was instinct.

She was curled up on her side, facing away from him, damp auburn tendrils of hair at her neck the only visible evidence of her climax.

“Scully?” Barely a whisper. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to hear.

Again she was quiet. Still.

“Scully,” he said, and paused. “Scully, I… I heard you. God, I heard you, and…”

He drew his hand through his hair, unsure. Should he be here?

But then once again, instinct took over. He lifted the blankets and saw her, petite and curvy and glowing and perfect. Saw himself lying next to her. So he fitted his body around hers, nuzzled his nose into the damp curls at her neck. Felt her.

Needed her. The way she needed him.

“Scully, I need you, too.”

She sighed; from relief or contentment or annoyance, he wasn’t sure. But then she settled against him, her back to his chest, the soles of her feet on his shins. He pulled her as close as he could, no longer embarrassed by his arousal, by his need.

He knew she felt him. Needed him, all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a hot minute since I've written anything... I posted this on Tumblr a couple months ago but figured I might as well add it here. Waiting for inspiration to hit me to write the third chapter.


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